


Too Good

by unkissed



Series: The Color of Deception [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Teddy Lupin POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkissed/pseuds/unkissed
Summary: James Sirius Potter is too good.  Too good to be good for you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Troye Sivan's song, "Too Good". I started writing this a year ago and never finished it. I had originally intended for it to be a birthday present in honor of James' made up birthday on 26th December. Well, I finished it off, and here it is. Short and sweet.

 

James Sirius Potter is too good - Too good to be good for you.

 

This is the thought that goes through your head when Jamie is on his knees and adeptly taking you down his throat. This is what you think when he glances up at you with adoration shining in his tempestuous blue eyes, rapturously, as if he’s only wanted you and you alone for his whole life. Perhaps he has.

 

This is the thought that plagues you as you bite the corner of your bottom lip to keep your accolades to a respectable, soft moan. If you could be free with your praises, you’d be swearing like a sailor and panting like you were running a marathon. But your circumstances dictate that you’re not at liberty to tell Jamie just how much you love the way his lips slide down your cock.

 

He’s underneath your desk in your office, giving you a mid day blow job, not because you asked for it, but because he decided you needed it. You looked _tense_ , he had said as he kneaded your shoulders after teaching the fourth year Slytherins. But instead of fetching you tea and a biscuit to ease you into the second half of your long day of instruction at Hogwarts, he pushed you into your chair, crouched under your desk, and opened your trousers.

 

You’ll never admit that it is exactly what you needed at that moment. Instead, you groan every time his tongue does that maddening little swirl around the head of your cock and you turn the sound into a half-arsed protest. “Jamie, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You love it, don’t you, Professor? You love it this way – dangerous, forbidden.”

 

His retort makes you clench your fingers in his hair, not because you want him to stop, but because you’re giving in. You can’t help guiding his rhythm to bring your pleasure to a state of inevitable release.

 

Merlin-be-damned, you fucking _do_ love it, exactly because it _is_ wrong. It takes you back to a time when you were both a little younger, a little more inclined towards recklessness, a lot more uncertain about where you stood with one another.

 

When your fingers tighten in his hair, he doesn’t get annoyed. The vibrations of his own quiet praise radiate down to your very core. He absolutely _loves_ sucking you off and is not shy about letting you know it – this fact alone could make you come, but you ride that high for a while longer because, fuck, Jamie is _too good_.

 

Don’t get used to this, Lupin. It’s too much of a good thing, and when has excess ever amounted to anything good? Fucking him too much, spending too much time with him, loving him too much. The repercussions of taking more than your fair share of Jamie have always hurt you both in the end.

 

But you’re not thinking about that right now.

 

He does this thing with his mouth that drives you wild – a technique he has perfected over the years, hopefully with you more than anyone else – his lips tighten on the way up, making you gasp from the intense pleasure, and just when you think you can’t handle it, he slowly corkscrews loosely on the way down, letting you feel the wetness and the heat of him.

 

 _I hate you, James Sirius._ Maybe you say it out loud. You’re not sure. All you know is that Jamie has you wrapped around his finger while he has his lips wrapped around the base of your cock. You will do anything for him. And he knows it.

 

It is not until after you spill voluminously down his throat that it becomes clear what this little afternoon rendezvous had been all about. Sure, he loves you. Sure, he may have even wanted to ease your stress. But Jamie also knows how to play you. You let him, because he is _that_ good.

 

He sits on your lap and kisses you. It’s never a little peck on the lips afterwards. Jamie always wants you to know exactly what he tastes when you come in his mouth. He murmurs lazily against your mouth as he curls his arms around the back of your neck. Something unintelligible about fruit juice mixed with mumbled praise.

 

You tell him how brilliant he is, not that he really needs his ego stroked, but you say it anyway because you know he needs to hear it from you. For all of his thousands of fans, he still regards your opinion above all others. You wonder if your appraisal of him is the only one that matters to him.

 

“Baby, I need you to do something for me,” Jamie starts. Your eyes are already rolling. Of course, with Jamie, good things always come at a price, even for you.

 

“What is it this time, Jamie?” you sigh.

 

You hadn’t meant for it to come out so dramatically, but judging from his reaction, it had. His arms come away from the back of your neck to rest in a crossed position over his chest. “Gods, you act like it’s such a fucking bother. Like I’m one of your bloody students asking for an extension on his assignment,” he says with annoyance.

 

You nuzzle your face into him, hoping to smooth things over. “It’s a shame you always handed in your assignments on time when I had you in my class. We could’ve exchanged extensions for blowjobs.” Jamie giggles at your little joke, and just like that, the tension is gone. “What can I do for you, love?”

 

“Come home tonight, yeah?”

 

He laces his left hand with yours. The tiny gold crown that encircles his ring finger clinks against your own gold band. The sight of your wedding rings upon your joined hands still makes your heart flutter in your chest.

 

You will do anything for Jamie because he would do anything for you. It had always been this way, and the binding ceremony two years ago gave you peace of mind that nothing was too much to ask for – not your love, not your devotion, not even your life.

 

So when he asks you for something so small, so seemingly trivial in light of the fact that you’d given him _forever_ , you just have to laugh. 

 

You won’t even argue that you have loads of papers to grade after dinner, or that you promised Headmaster Oglivie that you’d preside over detention tonight. You’ll figure out a way to come home to Jamie when he needs you – to the cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade where the Shrieking Shack once stood – to the place you and James share when he’s not off playing quidditch with Puddlemere United – to your small isolated haven where he can just be _Jamie,_ and you can just be _Teddy,_ not _Chaser Extraordinaire_ and _Professor T. Lupin._

You will come home to Jamie tonight. And you always will.


End file.
